221 oneshots
by MorbidMotive
Summary: Basically, series consisting of 221 johnlock oneshots that start with the letter 'B'. ACCEPTING PROMPTS! Prompts can be submitted through reviews or PM! Johnlock! Several other things that I don't know about yet! If there is a prompt you want, submit it! Rated M for some smutty times.


**Okay, I'm pretty sure there aren't bears in england, but just bare with me on this. NO PUN INTENDED unless you enjoyed it. And if there are bears in england, give me some slack I've never left the U.S. I'm confined like Rapunzel. **

**Oh yeah there's smut in here.**

Prompt: Bears

Prompt from: My sister, Angie

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Being the flatmate of the worlds only consulting detective meant that life involved a lot of running and very little sleep. That's why when Sherlock and John had a day off, John liked to relax as much as possible. Or as Sherlock put it, 'be as boring as possible and leave Sherlock alone to his boredom'.

This wasn't the case, today though. They had just finished a case yesterday, much to John's relief and Sherlock's displeasure. Then Lestrade called them and told them they had another case for them, much to Sherlock's relief and John's displeasure.

They had found what they believed to be the hideout of the killer they had found. The killer refused to speak so they had gone out to the woods where they had found him, and found a small shack with bodies inside. Sherlock accepted the case right away and dragged John with him. And that's why John was out in the middle of a forest with Sherlock, Donovan, Anderson, Lestrade and a few other cops in the middle of the night, on one of his days off from the surgery, he might add, looking for a shack that may or may not contain the dead victims bodies. As if that wasn't bad enough, they had been at it for almost three and a half hours and had just now found the shack.

As soon as they stepped into the shack, they all ran back out. The smell was so bad even Sherlock couldn't ignore it. After a few deep breathes, he balled his scarf up and held it to his nose, trying to block out the terrible smell. He leaned over one of the bodies. It was quite gruesome, to the point where some of the officers that had come with them had to step out of the shack. The bodies had skin peeled back in different places, revealing their organs and such. He noticed with the first one that one of them was missing.

"This one is missing his spleen," he noted, "And his skin was removed with a dull knife blade." Moving on to the next one, he noticed that this one was also missing an organ. "This one is missing his heart." He ran and did a quick check on the bodies, all missing only one organ. He shouted out the name of the organ missing as he went to each body and an officer jotted them down. "Colon, retinas, lungs, Eustachian tube, kidney, ovaries. But why these organs? None of the victims are missing the same organs."

While Sherlock tried to figure out why certain organs had been stolen, John walked over to the officer that had been writing down the organs and took a look at the list. Holding the notepad in his hands he read the list over and over again. Something was off. Then it hit him.

"Sherlock!" John called out. Sherlock turned around and John continued. "The first letter of each organ, put them in a certain order and they spell out your name."

Sherlock ran over to John and took the notepad in his hands, reading the organs off quietly to himself. "Spleen, heart, eustachian tube, retinas, lungs, ovaries, colon and kidney. Brilliant, John!" he yelled out as he hugged his flatmate. He then ran over to the bodies with a huge, dorky grin on his face. John smiled too. Now they could get out of here.

Sherlock told the others to go off without him. He wanted to run the details over in his head before leaving, so the others left, leaving Sherlock and John alone.

A few minutes later, Sherlock walked out of the shack and he and John walked back to the the town to get a cab.

"Absolutely brilliant, John!"

John blushed modestly. "Thanks," he said as he looked down a bit, trying to hide his blush from his flatmate. It wasn't until he looked up that he noticed something was wrong. "Uh, Sherlock, where's the path?"

"What path?"

"You know, the path we used to get to the shack?" John asked, growing a bit panicked and frantic. This forest was huge and the only way to get back to where they needed to go was to follow the path. "Please tell me that you catalogued a way back into town?" John nearly pleaded.

"Uh, about that-"

"Jesus, Sherlock! You're supposed to be the observant one around here! For a genius you can be a bloody idiot you know that!"

"At least I'm not constantly an idiot about everything, like you!" He regretted those words as soon as he saw the hurt in John's eyes. "John. I-"

"Why do you have to be such a prick?!"

"This isn't my fault! I was thinking about the case!"

"Of course you were! That's all you ever think about!"

Their arguing was cut off by the sound of a low growl. Both men's hearts stopped and their breath caught as they heard the sound. They looked to each other, and heard the sound once again. Very quietly they turned around, and they were met with the sight of a very large, very vicious looking bear. They started to walk backwards, which seemed to piss the bear off. A lot. They took off sprinting through the forest, running faster than they ever had, propelled by the growls that got closer and closer.

"What the hell is a bear doing here?" John yelled frantically.

"I don't know! It must have escaped the zoo in the town!"

They continued to run, not paying any attention to where they were going until finally, when they thought they would drop from exhaustion, they found a small cottage. They ran to it and burst through the thankfully unlocked door, slamming it shut behind them and locking it, hoping that it would be enough to keep the bear out. They heard scratching on the door, but then it stopped. Sherlock walked over to the window and saw the bear laying on the porch, blocking their only way out.

"Is it gone?"

"No. It seems intent on keeping us trapped here."

"Can you call someone? Mycroft maybe?"

"No service this far out of town."

"Great, just great."

Sherlock and John walked over to the couch that sat in front of the fireplace and plopped down on it simultaneously. It was a nice little cabin, and looked like it had been used recently. Everything was clean.

"At least it isn't all dusty," John said.

"Yes, that is an advantage."

A cool breeze blew in from the window in the back of the cabin, it was opened about two inches, just enough to let in some fresh air. Sherlock went to go and shut it, only to find that it wouldn't budge.

"Let me try," John said as he walked over to the window. It didn't move. "Damn. Oh well, there are some blankets over there, and some matches above the fireplace. I'll try and start a fire."

Sherlock collected a few blankets as John lit the fire, taking a few tries because the wind kept blowing the flame out. Then he went over to the window, and saw the bear laying there, watching the door. He sighed and walked back to the couch, sitting on the opposite end of was handed a blanket and muttered his thanks as he wrapped it around him, pulling his knees up to his chest and watching the fire. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up. "I'm sorry about the argument. You're right, it wasn't your fault. I know how you get after a case and I should have been paying attention. I guess I really am an idiot."

Sherlock looked at him, noticing the sad look in his eye and could have sworn he saw a few tears welling inside. He sighed and moved closer to his flatmate. "You really aren't. I didn't mean it. I was just frustrated and I wasn't thinking when I said those things. I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to hurt you."

John smiled a small smile. "It's alright. I've been through much worse."

Sherlock chuckled a little. "Yeah, I suppose you have."

The two friends sat on the couch, watching the fire, talking and laughing, until John started to shiver through the blanket. He sneezed once, twice, and wrapped the fabric tighter around him. The cabin only had one room, besides the kitchen, and that was the room they were in, and the blankets had been stripped off the bed. Sherlock watched John shiver for a bit, then moved closer, wrapping his long arms around his best friend.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John asked. Sherlock could hear the cold in his voice.

"Warming you up. You're already catching a cold."

He slowly but firmly rubbed his hands up and down John's arms to keep them warm. John didn't protest, he actually enjoyed the warmth that Sherlock could give him, and found himself leaning into the detective's warm embrace

"Thank you."

"Well I'm not just going to let you get sick."

Sherlock continued to rub John's arms for a while before he stopped and slid his hands from around John's arms to his waist, neither of them really noticing or caring. Sherlock then nuzzled his nose into the top of the sandy blonde hair below. John moaned sleepily and nuzzled his forehead into Sherlock's neck, before noticing, for the first time, what he was doing and pulled away.

"Sorry," he mumbled, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks.

"For what? I was enjoying it."

"Oh," he said as he leaned back into Sherlock. He enjoyed it as well.

Sherlock pressed his lips to John's temple, which made John turn to look at him. He was expecting disgust or rejection to reside there, but instead found light. He then placed a hand on the back of John's neck slowly, giving him the option to stop him if he wanted. When John didn't move his hand, he slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to John's. A spark ran through both their bodies as their lips pressed together, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle.

John loved it, the way their lips would press together, slowly break away, then reunite once again. It gave him a warmth hotter than the fire that had been long forgotten. His tongue made it's way to Sherlock's mouth, begging for an entrance that Sherlock granted him. Their tongues danced together and it felt so right and so wonderful, as if they had been doing this for years.

The kiss grew hungrier and more intense as John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and Sherlock placed a hand on the small of John's back while the other was placed higher, reclining the two of them carefully. John was now on his back and Sherlock laying between his legs as he kissed him hungrily. He reached down between John's legs and palmed his hardening member, causing John to moan out.

That one moan was all it took for Sherlock to get hard full on. He ground his hips downward onto John's, causing both men to groan out. Their lips reconnected and John started to undo Sherlock's shirt, tossing it to join his coat on the floor and Sherlock pulled John's jumper over his head. John then undid Sherlock's trousers, but stopped when he caught a glimpse of uncertainty in Sherlock's eyes.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he reassured.

Sherlock looked him in the eyes for a moment before giving him a loving kiss. "I do."

That was all it took for them to start up again. John pushed Sherlock's pants and trousers down and Sherlock kicked them off as he undid John's own. John pushed them off and like a magnet his hips lurched forward, grinding into Sherlock's, both moaning out at the wonder feel of the skin-on-skin contact.

Sherlock moved his lips to John's neck, kissing, licking and sucking a spot right behind his earlobe. Then he trailed down to his throat and then his chest, stopping to appreciate each hardened nipple, making John cry out each time he took a nub of flesh between his teeth, then down to his stomach, and finally to John's aching member. He placed a kiss on the tip, and John tried with all his might not to lurch his hips forward. He placed one more kiss before taking John's length in his mouth. John shivered and melted as Sherlock's tongue swirled around his throbbing cock. Sherlock bobbed a few times before removing his mouth and looked up and John, a bit awkwardly.

"I, uh, I'm not exactly sure as to what to do next," he admitted.

"Let me show you," John said, his voice husky, and then flipped them over so that he was now on top. He stared down at Sherlock with lust filled eyes, pupils dilated. He held his fingers up to Sherlock's mouth. "Suck, he commanded deeply. Sherlock took the fingers in his mouth and sucked them, slicking them over with his spit. John then removed his fingers from Sherlock's mouth and moved them down to his entrance. "This is going to hurt, okay? If you want me to stop, let me know." Sherlock nodded and John slowly slipped a finger into Sherlock's entrance. Sherlock inhaled, it didn't hurt, but it did feel a bit uncomfortable. John slid it in and out a few times, brushing Sherlock's prostate with his finger, making the detective melt into a puddle of lust as he moaned. Then John added another finger, and Sherlock inhaled sharply, biting down on his lip so hard to keep from calling out that he drew a bit of blood. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked. When Sherlock shook his head he began to scissor the detective. He knew that it hurt for the detective, so he leaned down and kissed him to distract him as he continued to stretch the tight area. He then added a third finger and stretched further before taking all three out. "Ready?" he asked. Sherlock looked unsure but nodded. John aligned himself with Sherlock's entrance. "Just relax, it'll hurt less." He then slowly slid part way into Sherlock, soothing the detective's hair as he hissed at the burning and stinging sensation of John's cock inside him. He leaned down once more and planted a loving and reassuring kiss to his new lover. He slid in the rest of the way, then pulled out a bit before pushing in again. After a few slow thrusts, Sherlock began to lose the sense of pain and replace it with pleasure. He moaned out as John slowly quickened his thrusts as he looked for the sweet spot again. When he found it, he made sure that he hit it every time and was soon full on ramming into it with all his might as Sherlock cried out in pure pleasure beneath him.

"John!" Sherlock cried loudly. John was close and everytime he heard Sherlock call his name it pushed him closer to climax. He grabbed onto Sherlock's forgotten cock and stroked it in time to his thrusts. He loved seeing what he and only he could do to Sherlock, how vulnerable he could make him. After a few more thrusts and stokes, they both reached their climax, John releasing into Sherlock and Sherlock releasing onto John's stomach. Once the spurts of white were over John pulled out of Sherlock and collapsed on top of his chest. Sherlock seemed to be in a different place so John tried to pull him back.

"Sherlock, come on, Love. Come back. Follow my voice."

Sherlock blinked once, twice, three times before he was brought back to reality. John smiled and laid his head back down on Sherlock's chest, but not before planting a loving kiss on his detective's lips. Sherlock kissed him back, then laid his head down on the armrest of the sofa, enjoying the feeling as John's fingers found their way to Sherlock's hair ran through it. They were both asleep in mere minutes, no longer cold, but the warmest they had ever been.

* * *

The next morning, Sherlock and John woke up to find the bear was gone, so they walked around the forest trying to get back to town. It took them a while but they found it eventually. The called for Mycroft to pick them up, knowing it would be faster than having a cab come and get them. While waiting, Sherlock and John sat down on a bench outside a small shop and entwined their fingers together. John laid his head on his now-boyfriends' shoulder and inhaled contently. Sherlock smiled down at him and placed a kiss on the top of his head.

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When the two detectives got back to London, they were called into Scotland Yard to make a statement. As they walked in they were greeted with the not-so-pleasant faces of Donovan and Anderson.

"Hey, freak, where were you two all night? Shagging by the bodies?"

Sherlock simply rolled his eyes. "Really, Anderson do grow up." Sherlock and John then walked past the two, but Sherlock stopped beside Anderson. "We shagged in a cottage." Anderson and Donovan's mouths dropped open and Sherlock smirked, pulled John into a kiss, then walked into Lestrade's office to make their statement.

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**Hey guys! Don't forget to review and give me a prompt! Prompts can be sent in by review or PM!**


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